Always Faithful
by 12beastboy
Summary: Gibbs has to leave one of his own behind.


**A/N: I don't own NCIS**

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Gibbs kneels on the dirt floor in front of the young man, his gaze locked onto the other's frightened one, even as he wishes he were anywhere – _anywhere_ – but here.

"Gibbs." His eyes are larger than Gibbs has ever seen them, their depths _pleading_ with him, _begging_ him. "Please. Please don't leave me."

Gibbs never cries. He remembers shedding tears once in his adult life, and that was when he received the news about his wife and daughter. So when he feels something warm and wet trickle down his cheek, he doesn't realize what it is at first. "I -" he gulps, hating every word that falls from his mouth, despising every fiber of his own being. "I have to."

The young man's eyes grow even bigger, which was something Gibbs thought not possible. "You're – you're leaving me?" His voice is pathetically small and vulnerable. He sounds and even looks like an abandoned child – someone too young and fragile to be left by himself.

Gibbs cups the other man's unnaturally chilled face in his hands, forcing himself to stare into those huge, terrified eyes, forcing himself to say the futile, worthless assurance that the frightened man ( _boy_ ) needs to hear. "I'm coming back. I'm coming back for you."

He grips the front of Gibbs' jacket, his fingers tightly wound into the shabby material in a desperate attempt to cling to the only hope he has left. "You can't leave me alone. Not again."

The guilt and shame Gibbs has been trying to hold off suddenly threaten to overwhelm him in a surge of unchecked, untamed emotion. He squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his fists, allowing several more tears to fall, but determined not to give in to the raging beast of guilt that writhes and lashes out inside of him. "This time will be different."

The younger man sobs and clenches the jacket even tighter. "You don't know that. You can't know that."

One of Gibbs' hands grips the back of the youth's frigid neck and pulls him forward until his forehead is resting on Gibbs' shoulder, even though each word the other man utters cracks Gibbs' already battered, crushed soul. "I'll come back for you," Gibbs vows emptily.

"Swear," the other begs, tears still streaming down his face. "Swear on something important. Swear on something that matters."

Gibbs hesitates, knowing that no words can right his wrong. Knowing that no speech can fix what he has completely, utterly broken. But he tries, anyway. He tries to put the shattered fragments scattered at his feet into some semblance of togetherness with the most important phrase he knows. "Semper fi."

The young man's breathing slows, and his fingers loosen their death-hold on the jacket. "Semper fi," he echoes quietly into Gibbs' shoulder.

Gibbs slowly rises to a standing position, supporting the younger man the whole way up. Then he gently pries the freezing hands away from his clothing, leaving the other man to stand on his own – alone and unsupported. "I'm leaving, but I'll be back." It's a hollow consolation, and they both know it – but they pretend they don't. They pretend that the action will make up for all of the horrible mistakes, misplaced trust and violated promises between the two.

But it won't.

Gibbs salutes with his right hand, ignoring the fact that he can barely see past the waterfall that erupted somewhere inside the fractured core of him and now flows in a steady stream from his eyes. "Semper fi," he chokes out. The growling, flailing monster lying just beneath his skin nearly takes control and has him on the floor, sobbing and wailing like a wronged child, but he manages to restrain it once again.

The younger man stiffly raises his right hand, as well, a stoic expression on his face. "Semper fi."

Then Gibbs turns and runs down the dark corridor, refusing to look back. Because if he does, the frenzied beast clawing at his already splintered soul, frantic for a breath of air, will rip its way to the surface and seize complete control of him.

So, instead, to try and quell the agitated demon dwelling in him, he abruptly stops his hurried escape and whispers hoarsely, "I'll come back." Even though it won't make any difference, even though it won't compensate for anything, even though it won't revive the cold, lifeless body he left behind - he _will_ return.

 _Semper fi._

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 **A/N: Okay, if you're extremely confused and want an explanation, PM me or something. I realize this story's probably annoyingly vague, but I did that on purpose. And I think the reader's imagination can fill in most of the spaces I purposefully left out. That's why I didn't put my explanation at the bottom of this document - it crossed my mind to do just that, but sometimes it's better to let the reader imagine what he wants. However, if you're like me, and too much vagueness invokes a murderous tendency in yourself, ask me for the explanation.**


End file.
